In a gripping episode of ABC's 20/20, Wiley and her mother Margo Williams of Texarkana recounted how they elicited from McMorries an acknowledgment that he had taken a sample of his own sperm, from nearly a decade earlier, and inserted it into Williams.

McMorries, who declined to appear on air but corresponded with Wiley and Williams over several months, defended his actions as consistent with artificial insemination practices in the mid-1980s.

He and Williams clashed over whether, after five attempts to impregnate her with the sperm of her chosen donor from California failed, he obtained her permission to combine sperm from a local donor in East Texas.

Williams, however, retorted, "Absolutely not. That just didn't happen."

From the beginning of her consultations with McMorries, she said, "I told him I didn't want a local donor."

In a letter and emails, excerpts of which an actor read, McMorries recalled "augmenting" the sperm of Williams and her late husband's chosen donor at California Cryobank, Donor No. 106, with another sample.

McMorries then acknowledged choosing to use his own personal sample, preserved from when he was a medical resident and sperm donor, because "my characteristics were closest to the characteristics of 106" of any available local donors. He was referring to sketchy information about hair and eye color, blood type, occupation and personal interests of a donor that were shared at the time. Williams said she was drawn to Donor No. 106 because he listed "politics and film" as his interests.

Through his lawyer, McMorries told ABC he had no legal obligation, once Williams allegedly consented to a local donor, to tell her the identity of that donor.

Asked by ABC whether he used his own sperm to inseminate other patients, “Dr. McMorries tells us he knows of ‘1-2’ women who became pregnant after he mixed in his own sperm,” the network reported.

Williams called McMorries' actions a violation.

"I really trusted him," she said of McMorries. "He was that doctor that everybody trusted and respected."

Wiley, 31, a stay at home mom and licensed professional counselor, said of the Nacogdoches doctor, "I don't feel like he's realizing the importance of this."

Last year, Wiley used extensive genetic testing, genealogy research, interviews with relatives and communications with McMorries to discover he's her biological father.

In recent months, she has traveled repeatedly to Austin and visited with dozens of lawmakers in an attempt to fill what she discovered was a void in the Texas penal code -- it's not a crime if a health care provider implants human reproductive material from an unauthorized source without consent of the patient.

"I'm sorry for all the grief this has caused you and your family," McMorries wrote Wiley.

Wiley, though, said she doesn't accept it when people tell her she wouldn't exist if not for the actions of her mother's fertility doctor.

Wiley has said she hopes the bill will prevent others from having the jolt of having to adjust to a newly discovered identity and lineage, as she did. In lavish detail, 20/20 described how at age 18 she bonded with Donor No. 106, Steve Scholl, who became a sort of father to her. (Williams' husband, the late Doug Andrews of Center, a teacher and tennis coach, died of a heart ailment when Wiley was 7.)

In defiant tones, Wiley told ABC that she, not McMorries, will have the final word on who she is.